


Salt, Sea, and Other Tales

by NekoMida



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Bondage, Double Anal Penetration, Dubious Consent, M/M, Magic, Shifting perspective, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Transformation, merman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27788314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/pseuds/NekoMida
Summary: No job is without its own vices, just as no town is without its own legends and monsters.
Relationships: Male Lighthousekeeper/Merman Whose Life He Saves, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59
Collections: Heart Attack Exchange 2020





	Salt, Sea, and Other Tales

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firecat/gifts).



A strange fog had rolled in over the tides, and Nicholas Rowland found himself staring out over the dark waters, foam slipping among the rocks as he pulled the heavy wool jacket closer to his frame. There was no time for him to worry about the crash of the waves as his fingers singed themselves on the large lamp wick, the flame flickering as Nicholas worked to trim it down. It wouldn’t do for the light to go out on a night like this, where heavy fog and disastrous weather conditions would spell disaster for any wandering ship.

Somewhere out below the lighthouse, in the waters, something screamed. The sound was chilling; Nicholas never thought that he would hear something like it and hoped to never hear anything like it ever again. Visible goosebumps and tremors filled Nicholas’s hands as he placed the glass globe back over the lamp’s wick, too shaken by the sounds of the otherworldly to concentrate any further on his task. It would last for the night; for now, he needed to barricade himself inside until the storm subsided.

It wasn’t until he’d climbed down the stairs, slick with rainwater from a broken panel of glass in one of the windows, that he saw the body pelted upon the rocks. For a moment, he’d thought it was driftwood, but driftwood didn’t move as if it were flowing in the water. This was elegant, though with the dark water it was hard to tell if what it was attached to was alive or dead. Nicholas hurried, slipping on the hard floors just as he made his way to the rocky cliffs that his lighthouse stood upon.

Blistering winds threatened to topple the man as he slid along the craggy edges of the cliffs, finding himself face to face with a body. Short hair floated in the water, inky-black with a hint of green that caught the glints of light from the tower, and the arm was lean, muscular even as it pressed into the sharp rocks. Carefully, Nicholas made his way to the spot, his hand snagging on a rock as he turned the body over, pulling the heavy mass from the water with a heave.

“Damnit, wake up so I can help you.” A sudden slap against the woolen jacket jolted Nicholas’s senses, and he paused, looking over at just what had slapped him. A tentacle, oil-slick and thick against his arm, curling tentatively as the body slid back into the waters, wrenching free of Nicholas’s grasp with a heave. His footing was slippery, and Nicholas fell against the rocks, his own trousers getting soaked in the process as blood dripped against his palm. “Hey, wake up!”

He barely had time to look up as a massive wave crashed down over him, sending the air spiralling from his lungs in a heaving gasp. He couldn’t swim in the thick current, already pulled too far under as his head smashed into the sharp rocks, causing the world to start swirling around him. Still fighting, Nicholas tried to swim upwards, but the heavy wool was too much, dragging him below the sea’s surface. The light was already dimming from the lighthouse, and he gasped, a stream of bubbles floating to the surface.

The last thing Nicholas saw before darkness took over was the inky-black shape that moved towards him, graceful in the choppy waters. 

\---

When he woke, Nicholas found himself on land, coming to with a startling cough as something smacked against his stomach, forcing the water out of his lungs. Calm had returned to the waterfront, and the sands on the other side of the island were soft beneath his hands. His jacket was missing, and he stared up into the sky, reveling at the moon’s light. Another smack happened, and he choked out more salt water, groaning in pain.

Something was slithering over him. Or at least it was the motion of slithering, Nicholas’s hands finding that the object wasn’t rough like a snake’s skin would be at all. It was smooth, slippery, and slick with water, and Nicholas could only stare as it raised up, poking at his face rather roughly as a pair of golden orbs stared down at him, followed by what felt like claws.

“...m’fine.” Nicholas blinked wearily at the person, his focus too far gone from the head wound he’d sustained. That didn’t seem to be enough to satisfy whomever was poking at him, and they spoke in some strange language to him, deep enough to identify that the speaker was male despite the hiss of air and gasps that came whenever the other man spoke.

“Don’t understand. Hit my head.” Nicholas’s brows knitted together, and the man helping him poked at his face, turning his head slightly. The hands were rough, calloused and slippery as whatever had touched him, and Nicholas groaned softly, causing the hands to back away. Waves crashed in the distance, and the light of the morning sun revealed what appeared to be a man in Nicholas’s vision. At least, he thought it was a man, until the man moved closer.

He smelled so strongly of fish and salt that it was almost overpowering, and Nicholas tried desperately to get his vision to focus, watching as the more monstrous appearance of his savior became apparent. Gills, that’s what he saw, fluttering in the sea breeze, a thin red trickle coming from them. Ears--well, maybe they were ears; they looked more like thin fins rather than ears, but the placement was right. And though the body was light enough to look human, it descended to an inky black at the waist, a few scales dappling around the hips.

Nicholas thought he was hallucinating, dreaming up the impossible. It just couldn’t be real.

Another gentle slap to the face from the slithering appendages, and he groaned, hand over his head. “All right, all right, you win.” 

But as soon as he had sat up, eyes finally finding clarity, the creature was gone. It was as if the entire interaction had been a hallucination caused by the head trauma, and Nicholas felt that he should disregard instinct to search for something else to prove what he’d seen was real. Instead, he stood shakily, using the wooden rails that led to the beach as support to make his way back to town.

From the water, golden eyes watched, bubbles rising to the surface as they traced the path of the man walking away from the beach.

\---

Hardly a moment had passed since that night that Nicholas didn’t think about what had happened, too many mysteries to solve with too few answers given. He shouldn’t have survived the fall into the ocean, and the hallucinations were entirely too vivid to be anything but real. But he had no way of proving it, and simply went on about living his life.

Until the gifts started showing up. 

At first, it was a scattering of shells in a larger shell, all pearlescent and full of water. That he’d rinsed out, using it as an object of art in his small home, the other shells strung onto twine and hung above his bed. Then there were a few empty glass baubles, like the ones that the fishermen used for their nets. But these were much older, much heavier; they looked like crystal balls. They were so heavy that he had to gently roll them inside, muscles straining to attempt picking them up.

And then came the larger gifts. 

A huge halibut, fresh from the sea. A woven basket full of crabs--though the basket was what caught his interest; it was damp and felt like it was woven from thick seaweed and kelp. Finally, a box full of golden coins, Spanish galleons that had no place being anywhere near his island home. There had been a legend of a shipwreck not far from the island, but no one had ever sought it further as it was far too deep for anyone to go. At least, anyone human.

Weeks of gifts showing up at his door left Nicholas confused; he didn’t know quite what the other party was trying to accomplish, let alone what the other party even looked like. His memories were hazy and there was little he could do about it until one night, when the lighthouse’s lamp seemed to be at its dimmest.

A bell rang in the distance, waking Nicholas from his slumber, and he rubbed his eyes wearily, looking over the bleak wooden ceiling of his home. Tired bones roused themselves to the floor, feet hitting the warm wood as he stretched, pulling on several layers that would protect his body from the cold. One would think that a lamp of that size would keep heat well, but the poor insulation of the lighthouse led to it being chilly, something Nicholas hoped to improve upon once summertime came. It was far too dangerous to do it with the winter tides rolling in, and he pulled on his boots, trudging towards the slick stairs that led up to the lamp.

It was only when he’d passed the broken window did he notice something bobbing in the distance, as if it was watching him. For a moment he thought that the lonesome hallucinations had started, the voices too clear in his mind for him to be truly alone, but the longer Nicholas looked, the more he realized whatever the creature floating there was, it was watching him. Waiting, perhaps, for him to notice it, or to hide; he wasn’t sure.

Instead of acknowledging it, though, Nicholas continued his path, wondering if the creature observing him was doing just that--making sure that it knew what Nicholas was up to. Staring would only alert the creature, and Nicholas was curious, perhaps a little too much so, and sleep had not been kind to him as cold fingers lifted the glass covering from the flickering flame, turning the wick up with a few short twists of the wrist, and trimming it down once again. The oil reserve was getting low too, which meant he’d need to send for supplies soon.

The pair of eyes shone in the light, and as Nicholas glanced down from the tower, glass obscuring his vision slightly, he noticed the outline of the creature. It was large, larger than anything he’d ever seen before, and there had been sharks pulled from the water on the other side of the peninsula that were longer than a man was tall. It looked like a writhing mass beneath the creature, creating slow splashes in the waves that drew his attention as if on purpose. And it was; the creature caught him staring and preened, drawing itself further upon the rocks towards the lighthouse.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the writhing mass lifted up, looking like the portraits in the small church that depicted angels reaching towards God. A split second passed as the two stared at each other, and the creature recoiled, slipping back into the dark waters from where it had emerged. But somehow Nicholas knew that it was still watching him, the shadow illuminated in the blinding light from the lighthouse’s lamp. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and just as quickly as he’d seen the thing pursuing him, Nicholas lost sight of it, cursed for the rest of the evening with sleeplessness over what he’d observed.

He’d decided the next morning that reciprocating the gifts was the proper thing to do; it was expected of him should any of the locals bring him a gift. But Nicholas didn’t know the first thing about whatever was bringing him small favors, and that left things up in the air. He decided that on his next trip into the village, he’d ask around for local legends, perhaps see if there were things that had happened before. The lamp needed a new wick, and supplies were running short for upkeep, so better to do it all at once rather than keep putting it off. At least then he might be able to order a panel for the broken window, to fix it once summer came around again.

That day there was no gift left at his door, but somehow Nicholas knew that he was being watched.

Thick wool blocked out the heavy winds, and the knitted hat covered his ears from the sting of the sea as he prepared his journey to town, leaving just as the sun rose over the hill. Two days had passed since the incident with the creature watching him, and nothing was left at his doorstep, making Nicholas knit his brows together. Had he offended the creature? Was there a fate for those who did, was it worse than accepting the gifts? He had no clue. The very thought plagued his mind until he found himself face to face with the historian, a wizened man bent over at the waist with grey, curling locks.

“Your kind don’t come in here.” His back was turned to Nicholas, hands shaking as they shoved a heavy tome onto the shelves. “At least not frequently. So state your purpose, lighthouse keeper, or begone. You hold the scent of the sea and it will ruin the parchment.”

Coughing, the lighthouse keeper shifted awkwardly, making sure not to drip any of the dampness near the piles of parchment laid out in carefully arranged stacks. “I was wondering if you knew anything about this island...more specifically creatures? Myths, legends?”

Nicholas stiffened as watery brown eyes turned on him, watching for any sign of weakness. It was like being in a shark’s den, and he was the prey; not a comfortable feeling to be having while being out on errands. A crooked finger pointed towards the stacks of books labeled in a rich green leather, entirely too old to even be possible, and shuffling steps followed forward, stopping the aging historian in front of them. He pulled one of the tomes down, blowing dust from the cover, and the chocolate eyes blazed.

“If you’ve stumbled upon anything in here, then you’re better off finding the blazing fires of Hell than trying to escape it. The lot are obsessive, and they take what they please.” He waved a hand in the air, speaking as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re just lucky, keeper, that we have these records. Not even the Crusades could burn our history, our monsters.”

Taking a gulp, Nicholas reached towards the book, only to have his hand smacked by a thick wooden ruler. “Ouch!” He recoiled, and the historian smiled, the horrible state of his teeth overshadowed by the ink stains that seemed to move in the dim lighting. 

“Best not try to take it out of here. I’ll be watching you, boy.”

Hours later, under a scrutinizing eye, Nicholas was still no closer to an answer than he was before. There were records of monster fish, of sea serpents that destroyed the coastline, of men that rose from the seas, but nothing about his creature. Or at least, nothing that could be found easily. The historian had brought him a cup of tea, which had the aftertaste of ink and parchment, and Nicholas had drained the cup, hoping it would enlighten him more to the records, but even a draught of that would not have been enough.

The day was fast fading, and Nicholas sighed, finding that the research had made him exhausted beyond belief. He thanked the stars that he’d had the foresight to order his supplies before coming to the historian, already paid and waiting for him to pick up. Each of the townsfolk seemed to take an interest in him whenever he came to town; it was a rarity to see the lighthouse keeper unless there was an issue or if he was in dire need of something. And that something had started to spread like wildfire, if Nicholas’s burning ears were any indication.

“Didn’t find anything, boy?” The historian smiled, a horrifying thing despite its gentle demeanor. “You won’t find what you’re looking for, at least not if it’s what I suspect it is. Nothing prepares one for that.”

“That?” Nicholas raised his exhausted eyes from the page he was on, the crinkled parchment dry beneath his fingertips as he paused. 

“The thing plaguing you. It’s native to the island, but you won’t find a thing about it in the books. Too rare. At least, if that’s what you’re looking for. Seems you’ve been here for ages interrupting my work and have yet to leave with the answer you seek.” With a grin, the man slowly moved towards the back of the records, and sat down, scattering a cloud of dust and sending a few moths fluttering away. “They’re very private creatures. And don’t you go speaking a damn word about what you’ve seen. If it gives you something, take it, but beware. It will come to drag you down to the seas if it has to.”

Nicholas stood with shaking hands, closing the book and laying it aside on the wooden table, nearly spilling oil from the lamp. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t understand, but I’ve been here too long.” Too many questions, and still no answers; it was frustrating and the old man was being far too cryptic for his liking. “I need to be on my way back to the lighthouse. Sorry for taking up your time.” 

He was just about to leave before gnarled fingers grabbed at his sleeve, and brown eyes glittered almost gold in the light, spooking Nicholas as the historian’s voice grew low. “You’ve been claimed, haven’t you? Best take caution, people fear what they don’t understand.”

Fear in his eyes, Nicholas carefully pried the historian’s claws from his arm, slowly backing towards the door as he nodded. “Thanks...I’ll keep my eyes out.” As if that would settle the entire situation as he made it out of the records hall and back onto unfamiliar cobblestones. His feet carried him faster through town, taking the supplies he’d ordered with a quick hand and a quicker step. Nicholas needed to be out of there sooner than later, and the faster he could get back to the lighthouse, the less dread he’d feel, the fewer eyes and careless whispers.

His heart warmed at the sight of the lighthouse, the white-spackled bricks in need of a new coat of paint come spring, and the calming crash of the waves along the rocks was a much needed balm to his aching head. Thankfully the supplies would last a while, and though the glass would take a few weeks to manufacture and deliver via steamship, he could repair the broken window before winter’s chill set in. It wouldn’t do for him to slip upon an icy stairwell, leaving him alone if something were to happen; no one dared venture towards the lighthouse for fear of what lay beyond it. The townspeople swore it was cursed, and did little to interact with Nicholas unless they had to.

Hours of research had done nothing to help Nicholas, but he had an idea, waiting until the waves crested at the night’s tide to leave it near the exposed sands. An alcove in the rocks held the gift, hopefully away from the cresting tide’s embrace, and Nicholas looked out over the waters. Twin orbs of gold seared into his eyes from the distance, the glow of the moon illuminating the dark shape in the water as Nicholas stood from where his gift laid, backing away slowly. He returned to the home attached to the lighthouse, and laid in bed, exhausted from the day’s events.

Outside, the dark shape found what it was left: a short band of silver that would wrap around as a bracelet upon its wrist.

\---

The gifts continued to arrive after Nicholas had left the bracelet, and eventually he found himself face to face with the creature that had been bringing him the items. He’d opted to leave another silver trinket, a long chain that would flow well beneath the waters and wouldn’t get caught while swimming, but just as soon as Nicholas’s hand had reached into the alcove, there was a splash behind him. A slippery appendage wrapped around his wrist, and Nicholas’s head turned slowly as he trembled, afraid of what he might see.

Dark green hair, plastered against the head in long tendrils that resembled seaweed. Scales dappling along the upper torso, across the hips and some of the face, with its strong jawline set. Golden eyes that shone darkly, brighter than any pigment that Nicholas had ever seen. Thick muscles that rippled along the surface, ending in large hands tipped with claws; thin fins that were laying limply against its head. The smell of salt and fish, and beneath the water, a writhing mass of tentacles.

For a moment Nicholas thought he was going to faint.

Thin streams of red trickled from the throat, and Nicholas realized that this creature was above water for him, and not for any sort of pleasurable experience. It must have been suffocating, waiting for his reaction, and he shook his head. 

“I don’t believe it. You’re the one I saw on the beach, aren’t you? All I can remember is the storm, and hitting my head on the rocks…” He flinched slightly as a clawed hand reached for him, gingerly touching the back of his head. The knot was still there, but the gash had healed, although the scar would be ugly beneath his short hair. Golden eyes watched silently, the lips of the sea creature drawn into a fine line.

Nicholas winced slightly as the cold, damp fingers brushed through his hair, though they were gentle. Far more gentle than he’d expected, at least, and the wince had caused the appendage on his wrist to tighten slightly. A glint of silver caught his eye, and he saw the silver bangle wrapped around the left wrist, contrasting with the dark skin that it sat upon. He reached out to touch it, running his fingers along it. “Well, at least you’re happy with it. I was afraid it wasn’t enough for what you’ve left.”

As if the creature could understand his words. The thin fins on the side of its head moved upwards slightly, perking up at the sound of Nicholas’s voice. So...it did understand, at least a little. The hand removed from Nicholas’s hair, leaving behind a damp trail of seawater as it explored the curve of his cheek, the scruff of his beard that had grown back along his neck. It withdrew as soon as it touched the woolen scarf, the tentacle around his wrist slacking as the creature slid back into the water, bubbles rising to the surface as it breathed, staring up from beneath the waves. 

Frankly, he didn’t know what to think, his eyes staring back. Communication was impossible, at least on one end, and it was far too cold for him to swim, at least for the season, otherwise he’d have waded into the water himself. Nicholas sighed as looked at his wrist, the thick circular marks from the tentacle left upon his skin. It hadn’t even squeezed that hard, until he’d winced in pain. Perhaps he’d startled the creature? Well...him. The creature was obviously male, the hard planes of its stomach and physique radiating masculinity and raw power. And despite the stench of saltwater and fish, Nicholas found himself thinking about touching the other male back.

Something slid against his ankle, dampening his sock, and Nicholas was promptly snapped from his thoughts as he saw another tentacle wrap around his leg gently. It made large wet spots against his clothing, and he shivered; the water was cold and he rolled up his sleeve, slipping a hand into the water. It was met with the slippery hand of the male creature, and claws traced the lines of his knuckles, the hard calluses from working on a ship most of his earlier life. He was still a young man, by all accounts, but had been forced into an early retirement due to his constitution.

Nicholas wasn’t quite sure what they were doing, but the touch felt secure, curious against his. As if this is what the other male had wanted all along, to know him up close and personal. “I’ll make it a point to visit you more often. I just have to do it early in the morning, or in the evening, before I light the lamp.” He wasn’t sure if the other male had heard him, but his fingers twitched in response, giving a lingering stroke of the tendrils of hair that floated to the surface as he prepared to climb up from the rocks. Another stroke to the tentacle on his ankle got it to release its hold, and it sank into the water as golden eyes stared at him sadly.

\---

Rishi watched the land-fish crawl away, moving in his strange way. It appeared to be very unbalanced, though he knew that the land creatures were different from himself and everything else that lived in the seas. Breathing above the water made his gills itch and bleed; he suffocated just to see the creature he’d saved. No tentacles, or delicate fins, or even a single scale to dapple his body, but still alluring in his own way. Rishi watched him until he made it to the cave that his land-fish called home, and dived below the surface, thinking on what to do as he swam away to find his dinner.

Several fish later, he was floating along the coral beds that dotted below the surface, the sands on the seafloor soft to the touch as he rolled along them. He needed to be clean, after spending so much time above water, and to preen for the land-fish to see that he was a remarkable specimen. Other things seemed to have worked--the large halibut had fed the land-fish for several days, and the shells caught the light in his cave. Rishi felt proud of himself, prideful that his chosen one had accepted his gifts, and moreso that he had received gifts in return. 

Silver wasn’t rare below the sea by any means, but to have something to wear was a joy. Normally he’d be adorned with strings of pearls and stone beads, draped in the spoils of sunken ships, but Rishi had opted for simple and had forgone any adornments other than the gift that his land-fish had provided for him. It was so unlike anything that he could scavenge--little was simple in a chest of gold and jewels--but it was endearing. In fact, he’d chased off the others of his species who had come to see what was keeping him so long. 

‘Silly Rishi, picking a land-fish.’ Ja’ard had teased him, tentacles drifting along playfully as he squirmed against Rishi’s scales.

‘At least take it and drag it under the water so we can see it.’ Hari’s tone was dark, the golden eyes shifting between tendrils of hair tinged blood-red, the scent of blood following him as he floated nearby. ‘It’s a mate, not a pet.’

Rishi wouldn’t stand for the insult to his character, let alone the one of the land-fish he’d chosen as his mark, and he hissed, the water bubbling up around his gills as his tentacles flared out aggressively. ‘I’ll do what I like, when I like, thank you. I’m not about to drown it, not after I saved it and brought it back.’

Bubbles cascaded as Hari squared off with him, circling Rishi as his tentacles slapped the scales on Rishi’s back. ‘Weak little suckerfish. You should prove that you’re a capable mate, not preen like one of the fish-tails waiting for it to notice.’

A few angry slaps later and a squirt of ink, and the two others were gone, leaving Rishi feeling raw. They were right; he should prove himself to his mate, but what would that entail? It had shivered in the water, blood too warm to withstand the cold waters for long. And it couldn’t breathe beneath the waves, that much he was aware of. They had strange suits of metal that they used, air from above streaming in, but he’d felt the tremors of the muscle in his land-fish’s leg when he’d squeezed. 

There was no way he could survive the pressure of the suit and the water combined. But that wouldn’t stop Rishi from figuring out how to make his land-fish see him as a potential mate, and it wouldn’t stop him from adoring the creature from afar. 

He didn’t see the land-fish until morning, when the dawn’s light crested over the waves and woke Rishi from his slumber. His tentacles slid from their perch, and his head bobbed above the waves, staring at the land-fish. It wore such strange adornments, covering every inch of its skin as if it would die otherwise. Frost had settled into its hair, the white flakes stark against the dark hair, and Rishi blew a stream of bubbles from beneath the waves. There was a steaming object in its hand, which it sipped from; whatever it was seemed to take the chill from its bones and he watched as the land-fish relaxed.

The surface world was so different than what Rishi knew; the land-fishes didn’t stay out in the dark, and their eyes seemed poorly adjusted to low-light. He was squinting over the waves, watching his chosen one moving around on two legs from the clear portals into its cave. He caught a glimpse of thick muscles moving beneath all of the skins it wore, watching as it disappeared from view. If only he could go up there without the dry air tormenting his lungs, he’d burst into the cave with a multitude of gifts. It was only proper to provide a mate with everything they could need, and golden eyes glittered at the thought.

His chosen one was male, that much he knew; it smelled of smoke and wood--not the damp kind that Rishi often found, but dry wood, tinged with the scent of the sea. The very thought sent his tentacles into a fervor, curling into themselves as he imagined the rough skin on his. And there, he’d seen a glimpse of a dark marking on the land-fish’s arm, reminding Rishi of the pictures that the old ones drew on their walls with crude paints and heat from the sulfur vents. What did it all mean? He had no clue.

All that he knew was that he’d been trying to get to the cave on the rocks when the storm had hit, and had slipped. The land-fish had pushed him back in, but had hurt itself in the process. And when Rishi swam upwards with it in his tentacles, he knew that he wanted it, wanted it to belong to him in every sense that he could think of. The hard jawline was attractive, and the dark-coloring of the land-fish’s hair made him want to run his claws through it. And when it opened its eyes? Those green eyes that reminded him of the darkest beds of kelp, the clear glass that littered the sea...he’d frozen.

Now, he was here, hoping to learn more about attracting his chosen one.

\---

Nicholas found himself visiting the rocks every other day when he could, watching the creature bob beneath the surface as it stared at him. Or perhaps through him? It was hard to tell with those intelligent eyes, and curious hands wandering every inch they could. Nicholas’s tattoos had been a point of fascination, to the point where he’d rolled up his sleeves so that his admirer could see just what they were, delicate claws tracing the lines in fascination. And the scars he bore too, all curious tentacles and fingers touching his skin. He found he didn’t mind it the longer they interacted, and eventually gave the creature a smile.

One day, when spring had come, he’d stared down the rocks at the creature, debating on names, figuring out that it was probably time to give him a name. Sitting with his tea, Nicholas sipped, the taste of honey cloying in his mouth as he thought about it. 

“I know it’s not like we really talk with one another, but I’d like to call you something.” Green eyes roved over the gold, absently taking a tendril of wet hair to comb through his fingers with. “Everything has a name...my name’s Nicholas.”

Bubbles rose to the surface, and Nicholas swore he heard his name called out in a hiss, something entirely too tantalizingly dark for him not to shiver at. It happened again, one of his creature’s tentacles gently tugging at his hand for him to come closer to the water lapping at the rocks. When he leaned down, the head popped above water, forcing air through sharp teeth. 

‘Nicholas.’ There was a sound of struggling as the creature spoke, the thin trails of red from its gills alarming as Nicholas stared. The creature took his hand, and placed it against its mouth, hissing out another sound. ‘Rishi.’

“Rishi…” Nicholas’s brows knitted together, before he gently pushed the creature back into the water, watching as it sighed with relief. The sigh sent bubbles scattering to the surface, and he hummed. “That’s your name, then? Rishi?” It sounded familiar, as if he’d heard it during his youth, but he couldn’t remember the location he’d heard it. The name evoked images of decadence, something rich in culture and full of life as he felt something swipe at his fingers, jarring him from his thoughts.

The creature had swiped his tongue against Nicholas’s fingers, tasting him. A visible shudder ran through his body, and Nicholas saw the tentacles unfurling as golden eyes closed. Sharp teeth nibbled at his fingertips, careful not to pierce them, and Rishi’s tongue swiped up against the palm of his hand, curling around Nicholas’s index finger. There was an ache in Nicholas’s groin, and his face turned away, hiding his embarrassment from Rishi.

It felt good. Tempting as the Devil would be. And his thoughts were wandering to places that Nicholas hadn’t considered before.

Almost immediately Nicholas pulled his hand back, cheeks blisteringly red from his reaction, and he shook his head. “I...need to go.”

Rishi could only watch as Nicholas scrambled up the rocks and into the lighthouse, the door slamming behind him. Dark lashes blinked, and Rishi’s tentacles clenched in frustration, before he sank below the waves, thinking on what to do next. His chosen mate had enjoyed the attention, but had skittered off entirely too fast for Rishi to even think about catching up to him. 

Nicholas didn’t see Rishi bobbing along the tides for three days, despite his insistence to look for the creature whenever he climbed up the tower to the lighthouse. When Rishi finally did return, he kept his distance, out of reach from Nicholas’s hands and he refused to accept the apology gifts that Nicholas had painstakingly gathered up from the island.

\---

Rishi kept his distance until summer, when the waters were warm. Others of his species had already claimed their mates, tentacles curled along delicate tails and legs; Rishi refused anyone else. He’d been so mad that he’d slapped a rock in frustration, teeth gritting as pain surged through the appendage. Saltwater healed all wounds, though, and it wasn’t long until the gash had closed completely. He’d certainly thank Poseidon later, after his daily watching, learning more and more about Nicholas.

The language was foreign, but Rishi learned it, repeating the syllables beneath the waves as Nicholas spoke to him about everything and anything he could. He was lonely; there was no want for the lighthouse keeper to have a family in this day and age. They’d just replace him later on, rather than passing from patriarch to heir. RIshi didn’t quite understand how that would have worked, although his culture was similar; the mother of offspring usually chose the one to inherit everything. Less squabbling that way, at least among his species.

Rishi was lost in his thoughts, head underwater, when he felt the waves shift, and an explosion of bubbles nearby piqued his curiosity. As soon as he’d started to swim, however, he found himself face to face with Nicholas, clad in only the barest of layers--he’d called them undershorts, another term Rishi wasn’t familiar with. But oh, how wonderful it was to just look at him, the pale skin flocked in small streaks of fur, the rippling musculature of his limbs, and the way that he now floated face to face with his chosen. A tentacle wrapped around Nicholas’s arm, and dragged him closer to Rishi.

Finally, he could see underneath all those layers of adornments that the land-fish wore, feasting his eyes on the muscles that bulged against his grip. An appreciative sound left Rishi’s throat, and Nicholas shuddered, before pointing up. He needed air, and Rishi let his grip go, letting his chosen float to the surface. But he wasn’t about to be rid of the land-fish just yet; he still needed to express his dominance, his want, and Rishi’s tentacles slid up Nicholas’s legs gently, firmly gripping the thigh muscles that were foreign as his tongue darted out against a naked hip.

The sensation against Nicholas’s hip was rough, and he flinched, though the thick tentacles kept him floating above water as his hands splashed to keep his head above the waves. A growing sensation of pleasure coiled in his stomach, something he wasn’t completely in control of, and Rishi explored him without much interference, running slick hands over every inch of skin that Nicholas possessed. It was just as another tentacle coiled around his stomach that Nicholas felt himself growing aroused, the other male’s ministrations making his nerves feel electric beneath the skin. 

Nicholas felt himself being moved, though the tentacles kept their firm grip, and he was seated away from the shoreline, onto a rocky alcove that had been worn smooth by the tides--and perhaps by Rishi’s hands, if the feel of tool marks under his fingertips was any indication. But what would Rishi use as a tool underwater? All of his thoughts stopped, however, when golden eyes peered above the surface at him, the tentacles on his legs snaking further up to brush against his groin.

A rumble came from his chest, and those inquisitive golds watched, testing the same path with slick fingers, ever careful of the claws that tipped the end. Nicholas could see Rishi licking his lips beneath the water, and he shuddered, feeling another tentacle slide up against his achingly hard cock. It paused, and slowly curled against him, causing Nicholas to buck his hips slightly, fingers going to the thick appendages to attempt to hold onto them. He hissed through his teeth, chest heaving as the tentacle stroked him gently, before Rishi’s face popped above the water, fingers under his chin.

Concern bubbled over the other male’s face, and Nicholas grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as Rishi’s tongue lashed out to lap up the saltwater drying on his face. Nicholas’s hands grabbed onto Rishi’s thick waist, feeling the movement there from the tentacles, and he dropped his head back, lips parting as he rushed out words, thighs trembling. He was in pain from the rock-hard erection, and a hand wandered to his shorts, tugging them down to expose himself to the other male.

It was just what Rishi had been waiting for.

Thick suckers latched onto Nicholas’s cock, curling around it possessively as Rishi pulled him deeper into the water, tearing away the thin fabric with fervor as his fingers touched Nicholas’s lips, pulled the human’s legs around his waist to accommodate the weak muscles there. Damp hair swirled in the water, and Nicholas’s head was just above the water as Rishi’s hands explored his torso with fervor. It was too much sensation, all at once, and Nicholas dug his fingers into Rishi’s shoulders as he moaned, coming in spurts in the water. Iridescent fluid stained the waves for mere moments, and Nicholas swallowed.

He hadn’t expected to find such pleasure in the strange touch, hips jerking as Rishi’s fingers touched the still sensitive head of his cock. It flared to life beneath his fingers, and he groaned, yanking the male creature’s body forward to trace his tongue onto salt-stained veins. The scratch of his stubble made Rishi jolt, and he nibbled at his land-fish’s skin, finding the thin ears that were hidden behind damp hair and curling his tongue along the shell. He could hear Nicholas’s heart pounding through his fingertips, claws digging into the thickest part of his ass as Nicholas worried a spot on the dark skin, sucking so hard that Rishi’s eyes felt as if they’d roll back into his head. A noise left him that was pure pleasure; he’d done well and indulged his chosen mate, earning his affections.

They writhed against the rocks together, with Rishi cradling Nicholas’s body from the sharper rocks as he half-dragged the man into the deeper water, tentacles tightening against the exposed skin. Nicholas was a blur of words and pleading, his aching cock tormented by Rishi’s fingers and tentacles squeezing him relentlessly. It was both heaven and hell all at once, and Nicholas was so wound up that he almost didn’t feel the sliding against his ass, probing carefully until something slid inside of him, curling against his walls. He would have screamed had he not fisted his hand into Rishi’s hair and forced his tongue into the sea creature’s mouth, not caring that the sharp teeth prickled his tongue or that there was a curious taste of something that was not from the sea.

A soft moan left his lips as a startled Rishi tightened his grips on Nicholas’s body, the tentacle in his ass pushing deeper, forming a rhythm that was slow and cautious at first until Nicholas found himself unclenching, relaxing. Rishi had never harmed him, and he had doubts that even if Rishi did, it wouldn’t be on purpose. A tentacle cradled his neck, and Rishi explored Nicholas further, touching him as if he was starved for any sort of intimacy; if only Nicholas knew how much the merman had pined for him as the months went on, waiting for his chance.

Now that his land-fish was in his grasp, Rishi took every opportunity to make him slick, probing with the secondary tentacle against Nicholas’s ass. It slid in without any opposing force, and Nicholas writhed in his grasp, a whine coming from his throat as Rishi ran his hand down his cock. Teeth nipped at skin, careful not to break it so that the sharks would stay far away from his mate. Each one of his appendages buried inside of Nicholas was rife with sensation, warm and slick against the chilled waters as Rishi had his fill, satisfying himself and Nicholas in the process. Already he felt the tightness clenching down on his tentacles, arousal leaking through them and into his land-fish’s anus as Rishi sped up his thrusts, bubbles spraying from his lips as he neared the edge, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Nicholas’s hands were fisted in Rishi’s hair, yanking the male to his mouth as his lips crashed into Rishi’s. Their teeth knocked together, and it became a flurry of limbs and tentacles wrapping around each other, squeezing too tightly, moaning too loudly against the crashing waves as Nicholas’s eyes rolled back into his head, come spurting against Rishi’s torso beneath the water’s surface. Mere moments passed until Rishi chased his own release, pumping into the land-fish’s firm ass until he exploded, careful to unclench lest he lose his tentacles. Warmth seeped into Nicholas, and his head lolled backwards, cradled by a wandering tentacle as Rishi withdrew, caressing his skin with gentle claws.

Large sucker prints were carved into his skin, angry and red, though Nicholas found pleasure as he drew his fingers across the marks. Teeth marks worried against his neck and shoulder, though no skin had been broken, and Nicholas found himself staring in awe at Rishi, coming down from his orgasmic high as the male creature stroked his face, checking him for pain. At least, that was what it felt like, and Nicholas felt his cheeks turn scarlet as something leaked from inside of him, iridescent between his thighs in the fading sunlight. He could barely move, though, and RIshi swam him to a hidden cave, away from the rising tides, and laid Nicholas on the smoothest rocks, pressing kelp beneath his head to cushion it.

The last thing that Nicholas saw in his exhaustion was Rishi’s head ducking beneath the water, a last stroke from his tentacle across Nicholas’s burning cheek and neck before he disappeared.

\---

When he woke again, Nicholas found himself staring at the sunset, a pile of shellfish sitting in front of him, once again in a woven basket made from seaweed. Rishi was sitting in the water up to his neck, currently cracking open what appeared to be an oyster with his claws. Once he noticed Nicholas was awake, he grinned, offering up the oyster on the half-shell. There was a pile of pearls next to the basket, discarded in a larger shell that glimmered in the low light. Algae seemed to glow within the cave, making the entire place seem larger than it was, and Nicholas looked around, curling in on himself as he shivered at the chill.

It bothered Rishi, Nicholas noticed, and he found a thick tentacle curled around his ankle, concern growing on the merman’s face. Carefully, Nicholas reached a hand out to take the oyster, goosebumps forming on his skin as it cracked from the drying salt, wrinkling his nose at the fishy smell as he tipped it back and ate. Rishi handed him another as he sat the shell down, watching as Nicholas ate, before sinking below the waves, the thin fins on the side of his head flushing out fully. They reminded Nicholas of gossamer, so thin and frail looking against the current, and he reached out to slide a finger against one, watching as his otherworldly lover shuddered, tentacles unfurling.

“...I need to go back. To take care of the light.” He pointed towards the waves that crashed against the mouth of the cave, towards the white sands that they’d come from. “I’ll visit tomorrow, though. It’s important that I light the lamp.” 

Rishi knew not of such things, though he somewhat understood. His land-fish had duties, much as he did, although he’d been neglecting his duties for a bit to take care of his mate. Nodding, he held out strong arms that dappled in scales across the shoulders, and Nicholas sank into them, the cold water making his muscles clench painfully as he hissed. Rishi must have stretched him wider than he thought, and Nicholas found a pair of possessive tentacles wrapped around his waist, clawed hands inspecting him.

“I’m fine. Just sore.” His brows raised in apology, and Nicholas fingered a loose tendril of Rishi’s damp hair, grinning as the dark color that spread under the odd-colored skin. “I’ll come back tomorrow, same spot as today. Don’t know if I’ll be able to swim, though…”

Something smacked against him, and Nicholas realized that Rishi’s ear fin had slipped back into his hair, a perplexing look on the merman’s face as he debated on whether or not to return Nicholas to shore. He still wore the silver chain around his waist, and the silver bracelet, much to Nicholas’s surprise; he thought that they may have impeded swimming, but from the way that Rishi moved it appeared that certainly wasn’t the case at all. It was so smooth and elegant as waves lapped against his skin, and Nicholas found himself wanting to see more of Rishi than he had previously. There were only glimpses of what the merman looked like beneath the waves, the low light and dark water making it a mystery that Nicholas was desperate to solve the more he thought about it.

He couldn’t really say anything; they barely communicated with anything other than him speaking directly to the merman, who responded via gestures that were unfamiliar. The language seemed to be entirely different, and Nicholas thought about it, wondering how he’d be able to talk with Rishi in less of a carnal sense and more of an emotional one. Maybe the historian would know something, if he dared to go back to town so soon after the last disastrous supply run. But before Nicholas could figure out a plan of action, Rishi was depositing him on the soft sands, careful to turn Nicholas on his side and not on his rear.

“Thanks, Rishi. I’ll be back tomorrow, with a gift, if you’d like?” Golden eyes watched as Nicholas stood up, a tentative tentacle reaching from the water, and Nicholas squatted down with a hiss to give it a gentle pat. “I promise I’ll come back.”

Curious eyes watched as the human walked away, and Rishi sank below the waves, swimming back to the city that lurked miles beneath, preparing for the next day. Nicholas turned around just in time to see the tips of Rishi’s ears slide beneath the waves, and then the merman was gone, just as fast as he had surfaced earlier.

\---

Rishi didn’t come the next day. Or the day after. Nearly a week passed since they’d been writhing together in the throes of passion, and Nicholas found himself pacing back and forth across his floors, finding that he’d worn a spot into the wood from how hard he’d been stepping. The crash of waves outside did little to console him, and he wondered if he had just been imagining things between them--they were of two different worlds, and two different species, and he’d just have to deal with the consequences as a strange tale to tell later on in his life. Running a hand through his hair, Nicholas strolled to the beach, eyes weary from candle smoke, and he sat against the sand, taking a smooth rock in his hand and tossing it across the waves until it sank from view.

Today, the water was calm, much calmer than he’d ever seen it. Summer always helped contain the fury of the ocean, but now it brought him grief, the small trinket in his hand tossed into the water without a second thought. He’d been so silly to think that it was anything more than just something physical, and Nicholas sighed, moving to stand. The moment he turned around, however, something hit him in the back of the head, and he found himself staring down at the trinket he’d tossed into the waves. Quickly, he spun around, nearly falling in the sand as he spotted Rishi among the waves.

The merman was bobbing below the surface once again, and Nicholas frowned, before Rishi surfaced, taking a few gasps of air as he looked about. There was an uncomfortable shift between them, and Rishi looked different than before; he hadn’t been wearing any of the armor or adornments that he had on currently, looking like something out of a storybook or a sailor’s fever dream. Nicholas could recognize some of the shells, pieces of metal hammered together, but the thick chains were different than the ones he’d seen in the museums on the mainland, and he didn’t recognize the etchings there, the language and style wildly different from anything past or present that he’d seen before.

A few breaths left them, and Rishi started to yank off his armor piece by piece, the strange clips falling to the wayside beneath his claws as Nicholas watched. No wonder the merman had such strong muscles; there was enough armor there to weigh several dozen pounds at minimum, and Nicholas’s mind wandered. What could Rishi possibly need that armor for? Was there something lurking beneath the waves that they knew nothing about?

As if to answer his question, Rishi plucked off a part of his armor, holding it out to Nicholas for him to inspect. The thick spine on the shoulder piece felt like bone, but was harder, feeling like steel. Marvelling at the armor, he turned it over, finding what looked to be whale baleen woven together for a thin but protective underlayer that slid over woven kelp that Rishi was still wearing. In fact, all of the armor seemed to be that way, as he reached for another piece and turned it over in his hands. The craftsmanship was incredible, and he wished that he could see more of it, if it was different in other areas, or was it all the same?

Glinting silver in the afternoon sun grabbed his attention, and he found Rishi still wearing the bracelet that Nicholas had given him, running tense claws over the etchings. Nicholas didn’t know what it said, but he’d thought it a lovely gift, and appropriate considering that Rishi still had it on. Holding out the trinket, Nicholas watched as Rishi snatched it gently from him, turning it over and over in the sun. It clashed with the silver adornments, but Nicholas thought it was appropriate, and Rishi gave him what appeared to be a grin. It would have been terrifying if Nicholas didn’t know how gentle those sharp teeth could be.

“I was worried that you weren’t coming back.” A lot of his fears surfaced, bubbling beneath the surface as Nicholas willed them to leave, swallowing as he looked away. “I don’t have any way to check on you, I don’t think I could swim that deep…”

A tentacle slapped against his ankle, tugging him towards the water firmly. Before he could stop from going any further, Nicholas found himself almost thigh-deep, soaked to the bone as more tentacles curled around him, Rishi sinking below him to avoid drying out. Quietly, Rishi buried his head against Nicholas’s thigh, fingers grasping the human leg that he found himself wrapped around possessively. Tentatively, Nicholas let his fingers tangle in the kelp-green hair, softly stroking it. To anyone else, it would have been a strange sight, but for them...this was normal.

He decided that he’d had enough of being a lighthouse keeper. He needed to be within reach, for both Rishi and himself, and Nicholas would figure something out to keep whatever this was between them; it was more of a connection than he’d had in years.

\---

The townspeople wouldn’t let him retire, but Nicholas found himself putting a foot down on building his home on the coast, close enough to monitor the lighthouse but also close enough to be with Rishi more often. Every step of the way, Nicholas found himself carried through by Rishi’s visits, and made sure that there was a place for the merman to relax beneath the wooden floors, a pit he’d dug himself. It had earned him a few more scars, and a few slaps of Rishi’s tentacles in concern, but nevertheless, it was worth it to find the merman habitating there as he woke up. And there were gifts, almost too many to count; he’d decorated his small home with the objects that Rishi had left to him.

Things were blissful, even if it was damn cold in the winter months, with the merman frowning at him as he shivered next to the pot-bellied stove loaded with coal and wood chips.

Days passed into weeks, then into months, and then into years; time seemed to pass faster than Nicholas wanted it to, and he found a few grey hairs sprouting from his temples, signifying the end of his youth. It was a terrifying thought, to not be able to swim with the merman who’d become his lover, or to be able to walk into the shallow waves without the threat of a fall. Rishi found Nicholas desolate in the small seaside house, his brow furrowed as Nicholas murmured an apology tinged with lethargic breaths, and a few tentacles slapped on the floor impatiently.

“I won’t live forever, you know. Hell, I don’t even know how long you’ll live in comparison to me. You could be hundreds of years old and I’d never know.” Tired eyes focused on the golden orbs peering above the water, patting one of the tentacles gently with his hand. “You should find someone else to spend your energies on, someone who isn’t a worn out sailor with rough edges.”

Nicholas got the distinct feeling that Rishi felt insulted, and the merman slipped below the waves, out into the darkness that had fallen only a few short hours before. Hours passed, and the merman still didn’t return, and then it passed into several weeks; Nicholas was distraught and had given up on even attempting to live anything resembling a full life because his heart shattered at the thought of Rishi being gone forever.

The winter chill had set in once more, and he shivered, before familiar sounds of splashing filled the space beneath the house, and Rishi surfaced, though something was off; the merman looked exhausted and was barely slapping the ends of his tentacles on the floorboards. Silently, Rishi dropped a bottle on the floor, and it rolled towards Nicholas, landing just at his feet as he stooped to pick it up. Liquid the color of molten lava glowed inside, and the bottle was hot to the touch, so hot that Nicholas nearly dropped it.

It was ethereal, and Nicholas held it back out to Rishi, who shook his head, pointing towards Nicholas with a strange look in his eyes. 

‘Drink.’ It bubbled up from the water’s surface quietly, although Nicholas couldn’t see Rishi from beneath the floorboards, and he opened the thick seal on the bottle. It hissed as air came into contact with it, and the smell was offensive; the potion was easily the worst thing that Nicholas had ever smelled in his life, worse than the rotten stench of death that plagued sailors and their ilk. But if Rishi wanted him to drink it…Nicholas had to oblige.

His lips curled around the neck, tasting sea-salt and sand, gritty on his tongue as liquid fire poured down his throat. His entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out, and Nicholas gasped, his legs shaking out from underneath of him as he fell to the floor. Writhing, the man didn’t see the tentacles come up from the floorboard until he was being dragged beneath the cresting surface of water. A few bubbles came from the water, and then the house was still, silent as the night as the fire subsided into embers, leaving the house cold and dark.

\---

Nobody knew what happened to the old lighthouse keeper, though stories filled the streets for years to come. Some said that he’d been taken by the sea, driven mad out of loneliness. Others said that he’d been bewitched, cursed from his days as a sailor, and had simply ended his life to make it all stop. The townsfolk all had their theories, but the consensus was that Nicholas Rowland had simply been lost at sea, whether in his mind or in his soul, and had disappeared without a trace.

The historian thought them all daft.

He knew what had happened to Nicholas Rowland, and he marked it down in his books, taking the glass bottle that had been left on the floor, still glowing with a single drop of liquid fire in it. A grin spread across his gnarled features, and for a moment, the sunlight caught a hint of gold in the watery browns, before he set the bottle up for the future. Of course he knew what had happened to the lighthouse keeper; it had been many years since the historian had made the same choice for a land-fish.

And sometimes, when he went to put his aching feet in the water, he could see a swirl of kelp-green beneath the waves, followed by a long body with two legs and no fins to be seen. A smirk filled his features, and he sat down in the waves, finding a few shells of his favorite delicacies tossed ashore, the subtle thanks enough to make the pain of being human worthwhile.


End file.
